Archive of Our Own

Hello world! Durin here. I’ll be taking over for my mom from here on out and writing my own story. I’m not exactly sure how to do that, but the Traveler and Albedo recommended I try a human practice called “journaling.” From what I understand, it’s basically when you write down the events of your day and how you feel about them, which sounds kind of like writing the story of your life, so hopefully this counts? Albedo said my mom was probably talking symbolically when she said I need to write my story now so I shouldn’t worry too much about it, but I don’t want to take any chances. What if I don’t write anything and people start forgetting me again…

Anyway, the Traveler said that keeping a journal wouldn’t hurt, even if I don’t actually need to put my story on paper to stay alive. Apparently humans do it to “regulate emotions.” I’ve never heard that phrase before. When the Traveler said it, Hat Guy laughed and asked if they’d learned it from Nahida (she’s the Dendro Archon). They said they actually heard it from a youkai in Inazuma who runs a bathhouse. I didn’t know what a youkai was and said so, which made Hat Guy roll his eyes and say “Haven’t I taught you anything?” before launching into a lecture about all the different kinds of youkai in Inazuma and what the legends say they can do. Sometimes I forget that he’s technically the Akademiya’s foremost expert on Inazuman history and affairs. If I’m remembering correctly, youkai are magical, non-human creatures, kind of like dragons. I asked him if I would be considered a youkai, and I think he was about to roll his eyes again before he stopped and made a face like he wasn’t really sure. Then Albedo joined in and they started having an argument about the arbitrariness of dividing lines between species and honestly, I got a little lost. At least Paimon also looked just as confused. It’s okay, though. I think it’s so cool how smart my friends are. And how well-connected! I hope that one day, I’ll know just as many amazing people as they do.

Eventually Albedo said he didn’t know enough about Inazuma’s unique inhabitants to contribute meaningfully to the discussion, so Hat Guy promised to send us some books on youkai from the House of Daena once he gets back to Sumeru. If he gets back to Sumeru… which I guess brings me to why I’m writing this journal entry in the first place.

I wish my first attempt at journaling could have been done under better circumstances. At first, it seemed like it would! You see, the conversation about journaling and youkai started at the little party we were having in Albedo’s Dragonspine camp. We were celebrating that I’d accepted the old Durin’s heart and taken up my mother’s pen…

“Whew, Paimon is stuffed!” the little fairy announced unprompted (as most of her announcements were), rubbing her stomach in satisfaction. “She couldn’t eat another bite!”

Albedo smiled. Durin had noticed that most of Albedo’s smiles were less frequent and smaller than other peoples’ — certainly smaller than Klee’s, who sometimes made Durin worry that she’d split her face in half if she smiled any wider — but he came to realize that only made them all the more precious. Albedo didn’t show his emotions unless he felt them truly and strongly. “I’m glad you enjoyed the food. I don’t usually cook for guests, other than Klee, of course.”

“It’s not high praise, coming from that one. She’d eat garbage if you dressed it up and put it on a plate in front of her,” huffed Hat Guy from the corner.

Now there was a person who rarely smiled. Come to think of it, Durin only ever saw him show any joy when he was proving someone wrong (always so thoroughly that it was a miracle any of the scholars came back to the Akademiya the next day after a beatdown from Vahumana’s best). He wasn’t quite the same as Albedo, though — Hat Guy was very transparent with his emotions. It just seemed like the only emotions he felt on a regular basis ranged from righteous fury to mild disgust and irritation.

“Nuh-uh! Paimon has a very discerning palate, I’ll have you know,” Paimon protested, eliciting a quiet giggle from her blonde companion.

The two of them were a perfect study in contrasts: Paimon wore her heart on her sleeve, physically incapable of keeping secrets or silence; the Traveler, on the other hand, spoke only when necessary and guarded their mysteries like a fairytale dragon protects its hoard.

In short, Durin had no shortage of varied humans to learn from — and that was only everyone in Albedo’s lab right at that moment! If he started counting Klee and Miss Alice, Jean, Venti, Fischl, Diona, Nahida and Hat Guy’s Akademiya don’t-call-them-friends-to-his-face friends, and — Durin’s head would simply start spinning from the sheer quantity of people he’d met since leaving Simulanka.

Suddenly feeling very, very warm and fuzzy in the heart pulsing just below the surface of his skin, as though the organ might swell to bursting if he didn’t voice his gratitude for the friends who helped him fulfill his mother’s wish and ensure he got to stay in this world a little bit longer, Durin said, “I love you guys.”

The cave went silent, save for the ever-present howling of the wind outside and the low crackling of the fire. Even Paimon stopped chewing (because when Paimon says she can’t eat another bite, she’s always lying) to stare at Durin like he’d just grown a third eye.

Then the Traveler broke into full laughter, pausing to catch their breath and say, “We love you too, Durin,” in that lilting, delightfully-strange accent of theirs.

“Yeah,” Paimon said with a grin, “You’re our favorite dragon! Um, don’t tell anyone else Paimon said that, though.”

“Agreed,” added Albedo, leaning on his elbows over the table and resting his head on his hands as his eyes sparkled with pride.

Hat Guy just scoffed and looked away, tilting his hat to cover his face as though the very motion wasn’t a clear tell of his feelings on its own.

Durin placed a hand on his chest, where his new heart seemed to pulse and glow in tune with his feelings, the firelight dancing off its crystalline surface. How wonderful it is to love and be loved.

We chatted by the fire for a long time, and the Traveler even pulled out a string instrument from Natlan to play some music! I don’t think I’ve ever felt so cozy. Maybe when I was still a little hatchling, and Mother would read me bedtime stories until I fell asleep? And where does the Traveler find the room to store all that stuff, anyway? They’re like one of those traveling bards from Mondstadt’s legends. It would be pretty fun to be a bard, but I think I’d get worried about accidentally crushing my lyre with my wings or losing it in a fight or something. I’ll have to ask the Traveler for tips on how they keep all their things in such good shape…

Eventually, though, it got pretty late. Albedo and I were planning to stay the night at the campsite, and since the weather was so bad, we managed to convince Hat Guy to stick around too. Even he can’t fly in a storm like that. We extended the invitation to the Traveler and Paimon, but they said they had somewhere to be in the morning and that they didn’t want to intrude. And then they just… disappeared! Vanished right there in front of my eyes. Albedo and Hat Guy say that’s pretty typical behavior for the Traveler, but I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it.

I was a little sad to see them go at first, but with how things turned out, I’m actually glad they left. Because, you see, shortly after we’d cleaned up and settled in for the night…

Durin woke up to the sound of rumbling, like the purring of a sleeping dragon. But he wasn’t a dragon anymore, and neither Hat Guy nor Albedo breathed, let alone snored.

He sat up, squinting into the dimly-lit cave. The torches at the entrance cast flickering shadows over the walls; the heater that Albedo had imported from Fontaine and tweaked to run on alchemy specially for Durin’s cold-blooded needs glowed faintly, illuminating his pillow and blanket but not much else. Albedo laid nearby, dozing off into the crook of his elbow. Hat Guy hadn’t moved from his chair in the corner, but when the rumbling came again, louder and more insistent, his eyes darted to Durin.

“What’s going on?” Durin asked, rubbing his eyes blearily.

In answer, the mountain fell down around them.

It happened so quickly that Durin hadn’t even realized that anything had happened until it was over: one moment, a sound like thunder rolling over the cave; the next, a silence so complete, it was like the world had put its hands over Durin’s ears.

Albedo sat up abruptly, his back ramrod-straight, gaze clear as though he hadn’t been asleep at all. “Avalanche,” he said simply.

“Really?” Durin stumbled to his feet, nearly losing his footing on the ice and gravel in his haste, but Hat Guy beat him to the cave entrance with a burst of Anemo.

Or, well, what was once the entrance. Now it was a wall of ice, snow, and flecks of gray debris, no less solid than the mountain surrounding them on all other sides — and offering no more hope of escape.

“Shit. Fuck. Fucking shit.” Hat Guy kicked at the wall of packed snow and rocks blocking the only way in and out of the laboratory. A few clumps came loose and tumbled down to the ground, only to be immediately replaced by the layer above.

“Language,” Albedo scolded, so quickly and tonelessly the response seemed automatic, joining them at the scene. One hand rubbed the back of his head as his eyes scanned the sight before them; Durin could almost see the calculations he was making in his mind as he took in the damage, searching for the smallest gap and finding none. Finally, he said, “Well. This is not ideal.”

Hat Guy crossed his arms, leveling a glare at the snowpack as if he could bully it into nonexistence. When that didn’t work, he turned to Durin. “Time to shine, Mr. Pyro Vision. Melt away.”

“Right!” Durin nodded, lifting his arm in front of him to aim a controlled blast of Pyro at the blockage.

“Wait.” The urgency in Albedo’s voice made Durin freeze. The blonde put his hand on Durin’s outstretched elbow, lowering it. “We don’t know how deep we’ve been buried. Recklessly aiming Pyro at the snow could ruin its structural integrity and, worst-case scenario, flood the whole cave.”

“So what are we supposed to do, then? Sit around on our asses and pray to Lord Barbatos that he blows up another storm to get us out of this mess?” Hat Guy’s withering glare was focused on Albedo, now, but the latter seemed unmoved by the look that would’ve made Durin hide in the corner with his tail between his legs.

“Exactly. The Knights of Favonius and the Adventurer’s Guild have personnel monitoring Dragonspine; there’s protocols in place in case of an avalanche. They’re quite common, really — this isn’t the first time I’ve been stranded by one. The Knights know where this camp is. They’ll send a search party as soon as it’s safe, I’m sure of it.”

Albedo’s gaze roved over the two others, then the rest of the camp.

“We should have enough fuel to power the alchemical process generating heat for a few more days. Oh, but we should douse the torches,” he added, snapping back to Durin. “We’ll want to conserve oxygen, to be safe. Same with food and water.”

He bit his lip. “I keep an emergency supply for situations like this, but I don’t need to eat as much as a human, so it’s not robust. But if I keep my portion down to the absolute minimum, there should be enough to keep the two of us from starving until help arrives.”

As he said those final words, the snowpack began to slump forward with an ominous creaking — and promptly fell directly on Hat Guy like some kind of divine retribution from the god he’d spoken of so rudely a few moments earlier.

Fortunately, the eponymous hat provided a buffer, so Durin was able to pull his friend out of harm’s way before he became a grumpy, profanity-spewing snowman. Muttering under his breath, Hat Guy shook the snow off his hat, pebbles scattering on the cave floor below.

Once everything had settled, Albedo craned his neck to peer up the cascading mixture of ice, rocks, and snow. His normally-neutral face darkened with the shadow of a frown.

“What’s wrong?” Durin asked, voice cracking from nerves. He hugged Hat Guy’s arm close; the man huffed, but didn’t pull away. A bad sign — Hat Guy was not one to indulge others’ physical affections unless he was too preoccupied to care. Durin glanced at him, taking in the way the other man’s eyes watched Albedo closely and the downward curve of his lips.

In lieu of answering, Albedo knelt down, planting his palms on the ground. Three isotomas bloomed into being, pulsing with Geo energy as they slowly grew to form pillars, pressing against the snowpack.

“What’s all this, then?” Having brushed the remaining snow off his clothes and readjusted his hat, Hat Guy sauntered around Albedo’s constructs, inspecting them with a critical eye.

Albedo stood. After rolling out his wrists, he sighed. “It’s an attempt at preventing a cave-in. That little display just now” — he gestured at the snow piling into the laboratory — “demonstrated that the snowpack isn’t stable. We don’t want to get properly buried.”

As Durin shuddered at that ominous mental image, Hat Guy scowled at Albedo, brow furrowed in concern. “And you’re going to hold up what could be an entire mountain’s worth of snow by yourself?”

“Maintaining Geo constructs takes less energy than, say, continually using Anemo. Besides, the Knights should send a rescue party before too long.” Albedo ruffled Durin’s hair, smiling softly when the dragon met his eyes. “Come on. Let’s go back to bed.”

He flies across a wide, green field, wind gliding over and under his wings, caressing him like the gentle touch of a mother.

He hears the triumphant songs of bards carried on the breeze, welcoming him to the city of freedom.

He dances with the dragon who glimmers in the afternoon sun like a jewel, sapphires and turquoise and emeralds.

He embraces the shining dragon in the snow-swept skies.

He embraces the shining dragon.

He embraces —

So that’s how we ended up in this situation. It’s not really how I’d prefer to celebrate figuring out my mother’s wishes, but I guess it’s all just part of my story and I should take it in stride, right? And maybe it’ll be fun… like a big sleepover. Yeah! I’m sure we’ll make the most of it.

Oh, and I had a strange dream last night. I think it might have something to do with my new heart… I’ll have to ask Albedo about it. He’ll know what to do.

It was colder in the cave that morning than it had been the previous night. Durin shivered in front of the Fontainian heater as he pulled his blanket tighter over his shoulders. His faintly-glowing Vision — and those of his friends — were the only sources of light in the lab aside from the heater and Albedo’s Geo pillars; Hat Guy’s cast a cool blue sheen on his face that made him look as though he were underwater, while Albedo’s made him look like he was made of gold.

(“Or like he’s got jaundice,” Hat Guy had quipped. Durin didn’t know what jaundice was, so the next twenty minutes were spent in horror as Albedo explained the condition with a mildly-terrifying detached coldness and Hat Guy cut in to make comments about how painful and miserable it was — perhaps with some exaggeration, but not without effect: when Hat Guy made Durin promise not to acclimate too well to Mondstadt culture and imbibe in drink only in moderation to keep his new human organs healthy, Durin did not need much encouragement to agree.)

Durin had taken his Vision off of his tail and clipped it to his collar as well, if only to make it easier for the other two to see his face. It also gave off a comforting warmth that he only appreciated more as the hours trundled along. Albedo had warned Durin not to use his Vision, saying that it would be better to save his energy for if they ran out of fuel. Durin saw the logic in his brother’s words, but it was difficult to appreciate fully as the temperature continued to drop.

Not that Albedo and Hat Guy seemed to particularly mind the cold. Durin knew their bodies had different needs than his, but that didn’t make it any less frustrating to see Hat Guy acting perfectly normal in shorts and fabrics made for Sumeru’s damp heat while Durin’s breath puffed visibly in the air.

As if he sensed Durin’s discomfort, Hat Guy dropped an extra blanket on Durin’s head before returning to his spot in the corner. The fabric caught on his horns and draped over his head like a veil; when he lifted the side with his arm, he caught Hat Guy’s gaze and gave him a grateful smile. Hat Guy just rolled his eyes and looked back down at the alchemy book he’d stolen from Albedo’s shelves. (How he managed to make out the words in this lighting was beyond Durin’s comprehension — just another benefit of his unusual constitution, Durin supposed, not feeling at all bitter.)

(Okay, maybe a little bitter. In his defense, being stuck in a dark cave was really boring.)

Albedo himself was near the cave’s entrance, sitting cross-legged on the ground with his eyes shut in concentration like one of the meditation masters Durin had seen during his time in Sumeru. A blanket of his own rested on his shoulders, but one end was slowly slipping off, unnoticed. Every so often, another clump of snow would come rolling down the pile, causing Albedo’s face to twitch before settling back into something more neutral. He’d been sitting like that more or less since the avalanche, only getting up to make sure Durin’s heater was still working (and to get sidetracked explaining human illnesses).

After wrapping himself in both his own and Hat Guy’s blankets, Durin got up from his little nest of pillows in front of the heater (a collection originally brought to Dragonspine for the rare — but not unheard of — drop-in from Klee, and expanded for Durin’s more frequent visits) to approach Albedo. Durin stood in front of his brother awkwardly, a bit nervous to break his frustration, but there was no need; Albedo shortly noticed his presence and opened his eyes to smile up at Durin before poking his head around the dragon’s legs to look into the dark laboratory. “Was there something you needed? Do you need me to restart the heater’s alchemical processes again?”

“No, nothing like that,” Durin said quickly. “It’s just…” He bit his lip. “Do you know anything about dreams?”

A curious look passed over Albedo’s face then, one Durin, after spending his entire lifetime in Teyvat among either the continent’s brightest scholars or Mondstadt’s famed alchemists, had come to associate with that particular flavor of madness exhibited by researchers who’d just stumbled upon a potential thesis topic. “No more than anyone else, really. They’re not my realm of expertise.” He tilted his head towards Hat Guy, who was pretending to not be watching them with interest. “Perhaps you should consult with someone closer to the God of Dreams herself?”

“Well…” Durin lowered his voice. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Hat Guy — far from it, the scholar was one of his closest companions — but this felt more… personal to him and Albedo. “I guess I’m wondering what Durin was like. You know. The one before me.”

It was only for the briefest of moments, but Durin caught the way Albedo’s eyes narrowed. Then he sighed and patted the ground next to him. “Sit.”

Durin plopped down, his tail brushing along the gravelly floor. Once he was settled, he looked up at Albedo — and nearly startled at the look on his brother’s face. Albedo rarely stared at Durin with such a serious, fixed expression, and if Durin didn’t know better, he would’ve thought he was angry. But Albedo had no reason to be mad at Durin for asking a simple question, so surely that was ridiculous.

“Durin,” Albedo slowly began, “listen to me. There is a reason why the previous Durin was so hated, do you understand? Why the people of Mondstadt still react with instinctive fear when they hear that name. Why adventurers are forbidden from visiting his bones. Why all the stories call him an ‘evil dragon.’”

“Not all of them,” Durin interjected, averting his eyes from Albedo’s sharp gaze. He traced the shape of a heart in the dirt with an idle finger.

“Pardon?”

“Not all of them,” repeated Durin, a bit louder this time. “There was that one the Traveler and I found in the library. From the forbidden section. It said that the old Durin was just a lost child looking for friends, that he didn’t mean to do all that bad stuff.”

“What were you doing in the forbidden section?” Albedo’s voice was harsh enough that Durin felt his shoulders tense, but after a moment, he sighed and shook his head. “It’s not important. What is important is that you understand, Durin, that your predecessor caused a lot of harm. The scars he left haven’t completely faded away even now. It’s in your best interest to move on and just live your life like you’re the only Durin that’s ever been and that ever will be. Can you promise me you won’t worry anymore about it?”

I wasn’t worrying, Durin protested in his mind. I just wanted to know. He’s our brother too, isn’t he?

But he didn’t voice those thoughts; instead, he said, perhaps a bit reluctantly, “I promise.”

Finally, Albedo’s mouth broke into a smile. “That’s it,” he said, patting Durin’s shoulder, electing not to comment on the scoff heard from Hat Guy’s corner of the cave.

Durin hoped his brother didn’t notice that his fingers were crossed behind his back.

Sorry for not writing in a while, but nothing very exciting happens when you’re trapped in a dark cave by an avalanche. I’m only able to write at all because my Vision gives off light, and even that hurts my eyes after a few minutes.

We’ve been here for some time now. I think maybe three days? That’s what Hat Guy estimated, and Albedo said that sounds accurate to the rate we’ve been using up our supplies. Of course, we’re buried too deep for any light to get in, so we can’t use the sun to check. To be honest, I hope they’re wrong and we’ve only been here for a day or something, because I would’ve thought that the rescue party would’ve gotten here by now if it’s been three days. But I don’t really know anything about avalanche rescue so maybe I’m wrong. Hopefully they haven’t forgotten about us…

Do you remember the dream I mentioned last time? Well, every time I fall asleep (which I do a lot, because there isn’t much else to do here and it helps me get my mind off the cold), I’ve been having similar ones. They always feel like I’m living someone else’s memories. They must have lived a long time ago, because the scenery looks a little different. Some of the buildings in the city aren’t there anymore, and there are more villages in the countryside than there are today, at least as far as I know. In the dreams, I’m always flying above Mondstadt, playing and dancing with another dragon.

I have a pretty good idea whose memories they are. I mean, the fact that the dreams only started after I took the old Durin’s heart for my own can’t be a coincidence, right?

But it’s weird. Everyone around me calls the old Durin an “evil dragon.” Even Albedo refuses to budge on that point. But in the dreams, or memories, I never feel any evil or malice. I only feel the joy of freedom and friendship, like I do when I’m with my family.

Speaking of family, you’re probably curious about how my brothers are doing. Well…

Albedo hasn’t really been talking to us. Mostly, he just sits near the blocked-up entrance and focuses on keeping his support pillars active. He’s got dark shadows under his eyes like he did when he was figuring out how to make me a human body. He definitely hasn’t been sleeping, but unlike Hat Guy, I know he actually needs to sleep a little. He told me that a long time ago, when I asked what made him and Hat Guy different from other humans and me. But now when I try to tell him that he should sleep, he pretends he doesn’t hear me. He only acknowledges me when I ask about the old Durin, but he always looks so horrible when I do that I’ve stopped. At least he’s still eating, even though he insists on taking smaller rations than I do.

Hat Guy is the opposite. As time passes, it seems like he only gets more talkative, though mostly he talks to complain about everything. Yesterday he started talking about the Dendro Archon and how she would start worrying if she didn’t hear back from him soon and how that would have diplomatic consequences for the relationship between Sumeru and Mondstadt. That all sounded pretty scary to me, but then he said that I shouldn’t worry because the Dendro Archon wouldn’t go that far for someone like him. That just made me more confused. Hat Guy looked kind of confused himself.

So yeah, that’s the situation currently. I hope someone comes to rescue us soon, if only so that we can all get some fresh air.

The air is cold; the wind slices his face like a knife. But there is fire coursing through his veins and so he does not fear the mountain. He has been here too long to be afraid.

Before him stands a dragon. It is huge, almost beyond comprehension. It blots out what little sun makes it through the weeping clouds. It is black and skeletal and reeks of the toxic sludge that drips from its bones. It is like looking in a mirror.

Who are you?

But he already knows, doesn’t he?

I am your past. I am your future.

Durin woke gradually. He thought, for a moment, that he was still in a dream; but then the crashes of thunder clarified into arguing voices.

“How much longer will we have to wait? Until you’re both so weak you can’t even save yourselves?” Hat Guy was saying, the words hissing through his teeth.

“Just a bit longer.” Albedo sounded tired. His voice was thin, like he couldn’t quite get enough air through his lungs. (But he didn’t have lungs, did he?) “I have faith in the Knights.”

“You might, but I certainly don’t. You know I’m a foreign dignitary, right? Lord Kusanali won’t like that I’m gone.”

“I know. You’ve been saying that for days.”

“And what about…” Hat Guy lowered his volume to a whisper. Durin thought he could pick out his name in the swish of consonants, but nothing else was intelligible.

Albedo was quiet for a long moment. Then, “I understand. I feel the same as you do. But I truly do think that it would be wisest to wait just a few more days.”

Hat Guy let out a bitter laugh. “Fine. But you’d better start coming up with a backup plan, fast. I do not want to be stuck here for eternity with your corpses.” His usual petulant sarcasm cracked on that last part, voice thickening under some heavy weight.

“I know.”

An uncomfortable silence followed for several minutes. Durin rolled over and tried to fall back asleep.

Hi again. There’s not really much to do around here, so I’ve been thinking a lot lately, about my mom and Albedo’s mom and the old Durin. You know, I originally thought that all the stories were right about the old Durin being evil. But then my own mother seemed to disagree, and now…

I don’t know. Maybe Albedo’s right and I should stop thinking about it. But I keep having these dreams about the old Durin, and they don’t make me scared, or think that he was inherently bad. They just make me sad, to be honest. Like maybe I shouldn’t have taken away his future for my own selfish desires.

I don’t know.

I’d like to talk to Albedo about it again, but he’s made it pretty clear he isn’t interested. I don’t like the way he keeps glancing at me… It’s weird, because he’s still the same Albedo I know and love, but sometimes he looks at me with this awful sadness… almost like he regrets making me a body. Maybe I’m just imagining things. Oh, gods, I hope he doesn’t read these entries while I’m asleep… Albedo, if you’re reading this, stop!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I just need to get my thoughts out somehow, okay? Please don’t get mad!

And speaking of Albedo, I don’t know if he’s been taking care of himself. I’ve been leaving him food every day like usual, but he doesn’t eat it while I’m watching. The plate only empties when I’m asleep. That felt suspicious on its own, but then today, I went to get our daily helping and noticed that there didn’t seem to be any less food than there had been the day before. You don’t think he’s putting his serving back when I’m not looking, do you?

Anyway, I think I’ll try talking to Hat Guy instead. He’s not really the best person for conversations like these, but my options are a little limited right now. Besides, he’s smart. And he’s friends with Nahida, so he should know something about dreams. Maybe he’ll know what to do.

Hat Guy was tipped back in his chair, feet propped up on a crate and head leaning back against the cave wall. His hat lay over his face as though he was sleeping, but Durin knew his friend well enough to see it for the imitation it was. Likely he was doing what the rest of them were — zoning out in the hope time would pass faster than an inching crawl.

Sure enough, when Durin stepped close, Hat Guy let out an exaggerated sigh and tilted the edge of his hat so that he could glare at Durin from beneath it. “Yes?”

“Hey, Hat Guy,” Durin started, pulling at the fingertips of his gloves. Why is talking to people always so much easier when you’re imagining the conversation in your mind? “Um… could I ask you about something?”

Hat Guy frowned, but he pushed his hat back onto his head and sat up. “What is it? Did something happen?”

“No, it’s just…” Durin glanced back nervously. Albedo was on the other side of the lab — not a large distance by any means, but his eyes were closed and he gave no indication that he was paying attention to Durin and Hat Guy. Durin sighed and sat down on the crate Hat Guy had been using as a footstool. “I’ve been having… strange dreams, lately.”

“Oh, that’s what this is about?”

Durin blinked, surprised. “You knew?”

“Albedo mentioned it.” He shrugged before crossing his arms over his chest in a familiar pose. “So?”

“So…” Durin twisted his hands in his lap, biting his lip as he tried to find the words to explain the gnarled lump in his chest. “So, I’ve just been thinking about, like, legacies, I guess? And how to carry one that you didn’t ask for. Or something like that. I don’t know.”

Hat Guy snorted. “Feeling eloquent today, aren’t we?” He didn’t comment on Durin’s reddening cheeks, though; instead, his eyes took on a faraway look. “It’s fine. I think I know what you mean.”

“You do?” Durin didn’t mean for it to come out like a squeak, but Hat Guy’s response caught him off guard. Despite all the time they’d spent together, Durin didn’t really know his first friend as well as he’d have liked to — and certainly not for lack of trying. But Hat Guy was about as open as a book sealed shut with a magic spell and bound in several layers of chains and then thrown into a locked chest buried in the deepest part of the ocean for good measure. Durin couldn’t help hungering after every hint of Hat Guy’s mysterious past like… well, like a dragon being lured with gold coins promising a massive hoard if only he could follow their trail.

“Don’t act so surprised. Of course I do.” Hat Guy went quiet, but Durin didn’t press; he knew how to tell Hat Guy’s silences apart — which ones were because he was allowing himself to reminisce on a history only he knew (rare), and which ones were because he didn’t consider the other person worth his time (much less rare). This was, if Durin had to guess, the former. Sure enough, a few moments later, Hat Guy continued, “I doubt it’s anything like what you’re dealing with, but I know what it’s like to be the only one who remembers. It’s a heavy responsibility, that’s for sure.”

“How do you deal with it?” Durin asked, enraptured.

“Hell if I know,” Hat Guy said, smirking at the way Durin’s face fell. “I’m still figuring that out. But I can tell you how not to deal with it, and that’s to pretend like nothing happened.” He shook his head, the motion sudden and almost vicious. “No matter how hard it is, you can’t forget. If you don’t have the past, then you have nothing at all.”

Durin felt the words settling over him like fresh-fallen snow — cold, bracing, and also obscuring the path he thought he saw.

Hat Guy laughed. “Not helpful?”

“No, no, it’s helpful… I think.” Durin waved his hands in front of him quickly. “I’ll just have to think about it, is all. Thanks for your time.”

Rolling his eyes, Hat Guy scoffed. “Yeah, sure.” A shadow passed over his face as he glanced at Albedo, who hadn’t moved an inch in his meditative pose. “It’s the only thing we’ve got no shortage of.”

The mountain looms, its peak obscured by shifting clouds and the falling snow. His eyelashes are dusted with the sparkling flakes, he can see his breath take shape in front of him, but he is not cold, because fire —

“ — courses through my veins, yeah. I’ve already read that part.” Durin takes a deep breath and looks up at the hulking figure in front of him. He smiles, praying to all the gods above and below that it doesn’t betray the fear and uncertainty racing up and down his spine. “Hi, Durin.”

There comes a sound all too reminiscent of an avalanche, but Durin quickly realizes it’s just the contented rumbling in the dragon’s chest. “Little one,” the large dragon says, the words ringing clean and clear directly in Durin’s mind. “Who are you, you who feel so familiar?”

“Umm…” Durin rubs the back of his head, the words vanishing on the tip of his tongue. He didn’t think the old Durin wouldn’t know who he was. That complicates things. Where should Durin begin? With his mother’s quest? With Simulanka? With the old Durin’s legacy? Oh, gods, does he even know what happened to him?

There is a creaking noise that could almost be laughter, if listened to sideways. “Fear not. There is little you can do to hurt me, diminished as I now am.”

Diminished isn’t the word Durin would use to describe the dragon whose bones litter half of Dragonspine and who is beyond massive even in this strange dream world, but he won’t argue. “Okay, then. I’m… Durin. Like you, but… not.”

“Ah. Another of Mother’s creations, then? No wonder you are here. The mountain calls to many of us. Even now, I can feel our kin… resting beneath my bones, crawling about on the surface…”

“...right. Well, it’s a little complicated, but actually, my mom was your mom’s friend. And she didn’t like how your story ended, so she wanted to write one of her own where Durin gets a happy ending… and that’s me, I guess? And to make a really long story short, I ended up… taking your heart and grafting my story onto yours so that maybe things can go better this time. I hope that’s okay — I didn’t ask you first, and I feel really bad about it, because it’s not really fair for me to decide that I should be the Durin who gets to continue existing in this world, and not you, and…” He trails off. The dragon doesn’t react; then, finally, he blinks, the motion slow and languid. For a few seconds, the glowing red of his eyes is hidden.

“Oh, I shouldn’t have expected you to know what grafting is. Um, so basically it’s this thing gardeners do when they want a new kind of plant to grow off the stem of an old one —”

“Little one.” The low voice cuts him off. “It is alright. I understand.”

“You do! Great.” Durin sighs in relief, hand on his chest, before freezing at the implication. The crystalline surface of his heart feels cold against his palm, even through the fabric of his glove. “So about the, ah, replacing you bit. I didn’t really know you were still, like… conscious? But that isn’t an excuse. It was selfish of me. I’m sorry. I’ll do whatever I can to make up for it. Except give it back, which I know is the only real apology I could give, but that would mean I’d disappear from this world forever and I — I don’t want to do that.” Durin’s voice cracks on the last words. He hangs his head, squeezing his eyes shut as though that will protect him from however the dragon displays his rage.

A long moment passes where the only thing audible is the whistling of the winter wind. Then,

“Blood of my blood. Kin of my kin. You have family, yes? Friends who care for you?”

Startled, Durin looks up, meeting the crimson-red gaze of his predecessor. “I — yes, I do.”

“And you care for them in return, yes?”

“Of course! I don’t know what I’d do without them. They’ve helped me so much, and I —” Durin’s hands ball into fists at his side. “I can’t thank them enough.”

“And you will experience this world with them at your side?”

“For as long as they’ll let me.”

“Then worry not about me, little one. What you have is all I ever wanted.” If dragons are capable of smiling, then that must be what’s contorting the old Durin’s face. “You ask what you can do for me. All I desire is this: you have been given the miraculous blessing of life. Enjoy it for the both of us.”

The world begins to glow gold, the snowflakes transforming into little embers of abyssal fire. They don’t burn, though; instead, they tickle Durin’s cheeks, like the kisses of the little radish creatures of Sumeru’s rainforests. As if he can read Durin’s mind, the dragon lets out a huff of laughter. “You have already seen so much and known so much love. There is no one I would rather carry my name into the future.”

Durin opens his mouth to say something — a thank you, or another apology, or some idiotic comment, he isn’t sure — but the words die in his throat, his jaw suddenly heavy with sleep. He struggles to keep his eyelids from falling shut, but it’s a losing battle. He feels as if he’s falling backwards into a sea of clouds.

The last thing he hears before he wakes up is the dragon’s gentle blessing:

“Go in peace.”

Hi hi! So, good news and bad news. The good news is that I’ve solved the dream problem. The bad news is that we’re starting to get really low on food and fuel. Albedo seems exhausted, and I’m pretty sure he stopped eating entirely a couple of days ago. And he’s really looking at me strangely now. I know he’s worried about me, but he doesn’t have to anymore. I think I’m going to talk to him about the old Durin and clear all that up.

At least Hat Guy is still acting normal. Mostly. It turns out he’s the type who gets louder when he first gets stressed, but then gets quieter the longer things go on, so he’s been arguing with Albedo less and spending more time staring into space with a blank look on his face. It’s a little weird, but it’s way less worrying than whatever’s going through Albedo’s mind right now.

Albedo had always been paler than most, but in the dim lighting of his Vision, his pallor seemed something unnatural. Dark circles ringed his eyes; his cheeks were shadowed, the skin pulled taut over his bones like it didn’t quite fit right.

“Albedo?” Durin asked, hesitantly.

His brother’s eyes fluttered open. They darted around, unfocused, before settling, icy blue like the jagged peak of Dragonspine, on Durin. His voice creaked when he spoke. “Yes?”

Durin had known Albedo wasn’t at his best, that he’d most likely been skipping meals and hadn’t properly rested since the avalanche, but he was taken aback nonetheless. Albedo wasn’t human, at least not in the way Sucrose or Mr. Kaeya were; he didn’t fall ill or need to take breaks from his work to keep healthy. The only time Durin had ever seen him look truly tired was in the days leading up to his transmutation, and even that had seemed more mental than anything else. This Albedo looked like he’d been trampled by a pack of Sumpterbeasts and then left in the hot desert sun. “Is… is now a bad time?”

“I’m just tired, is all,” Albedo managed to rasp out, shaking his head gently. “I’ve never had to use my Vision constantly for such a long period of time.”

“I can see why you told me to conserve my energy unless we really needed it,” Durin responded sheepishly, feeling a bit childish for complaining of the cold in his diary when Albedo was going through… all of this for his sake. “Are you okay? Do you think it’s time Hat Guy and I tried blasting out of here on our own? We’re almost out of food.”

“No, the Knights should be here soon. I can hold out a bit longer.”

Durin pursed his lips. Looking at Albedo now, he wasn’t sure he believed it — the alchemist had started to tremble ever-so-slightly, as if the exertion from keeping his Vision active and talking to Durin at the same time was more than he could bear. “If you say so…”

“I do.” Albedo closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath, the inhale shaky and gasping. “Was that what you wanted to speak to me about?”

“Well… not quite. I know you asked me not to talk about it anymore, but…”

Albedo’s eyes snapped open.

“...I wanted to talk to you about my dreams.”

Albedo kept his face perfectly still, like one of the Inazuman theater masks Hat Guy kept in his Akademiya quarters. The corner of his mouth twitched, quickly, almost impossible to see. “Is that so.”

It wasn’t a question, but Durin answered anyway. “Yeah. I don’t think I told you about them yet, but I’ve been dreaming about the old Durin. He actually spoke with me last time. I think he’s still alive, somehow, in my new heart —”

He was cut off as the air was knocked out of his chest. It took a moment for Durin to realize why he was lying on the cave floor when he’d just been standing, and another for him to accept it as reality: Albedo had lunged at him with an almost-animalistic ferocity, and was now straddling Durin’s torso, hands around the dragon’s neck.

“Albedo? What —” Durin scrabbled at the ground and tried to wrench Albedo’s fingers away, but the alchemist was surprisingly strong for someone who looked to be on the verge of fainting. Suddenly, all the soft edges of Klee’s big brother Albedo fell away; this was one of Gold’s infamous blasphemies, capable of rending the fabric of the world asunder.

As he struggled, something warm and wet dropped onto Durin’s cheeks. Albedo’s tears. What on Teyvat is going on?

The weight of Albedo’s body on his disappeared when a burst of Anemo sent Albedo careening into the cave wall. The isotomas holding up the snowpack seemed to weaken, dust crumbling from the corners with the force of the impact, but soon stabilized.

Durin only had a second to marvel at Albedo’s fine-tuned control over Geo before Hat Guy strode into his field of vision.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he yelled, grabbing Albedo by the collar of his jacket and lifting him a few inches off the ground. “Have you finally gone out of your mind?”

Durin sat up, rubbing his neck where Albedo’s hands had been just a moment before. His chest rose and fell rapidly; he bit his lip to keep it from trembling. His mind was reluctant to admit what had just happened, but the ghost of Albedo’s fingers on his skin made it impossible to deny. As if to drive the point home, Durin coughed against the lingering pressure on his windpipe.

Albedo stared at the both of them, eyes blown wide and bewildered. “I —” Then he buried his face in his hands. “Oh, Barbatos,” he said, the words muffled by his gloves, “what am I doing?”

“Um…” Durin glanced up at Hat Guy, who roughly pushed Albedo away. His face was twisted into an expression of malice, more so than Durin had ever seen — directed at any of their friends, anyway. Durin was shocked at the chill that ran through his bones at the sight of it; it was like seeing an alternate story where Hat Guy was not his friend but an irredeemable villain, one with blood on his hands and a heart bereft of hope.

The alchemist pushed his palms up to his forehead, running his fingers through his hair. “Gods, Durin, I’m sorry, I don’t know what got into me.”

Hat Guy crossed his arms. Unimpressed, he said, “I don’t buy it.”

The two of them locked eyes for a long minute as Durin glanced back and forth between them; Hat Guy held his glare steady, and finally, Albedo sighed and looked away, head hanging.

“I mean,” he began, “that I don’t know why I reacted like that. It was uncalled for. I apologize.”

“It’s okay,” Durin said, getting to his feet. It was true that such an explosive response was uncharacteristic from the mild-mannered Albedo, but they’d all been under a lot of pressure, and him especially. If even Durin was starting to feel the strain of their predicament, then he could only imagine how it was affecting Albedo, who’d taken it upon himself to ensure their safety. “You’re tired. I get it. I should’ve noticed sooner and offered to help you out.”

He tried to take a step forward, but Hat Guy blocked him with an outstretched hand. “Don’t forgive him so easily,” he said to Durin, but his gaze stayed trained on Albedo. “He’s not telling you everything. Well, Albedo? What’s on your mind? Enlighten us.”

Albedo pursed his lips. The sallow skin of his face tightened around his cheekbones with the motion. Then he took a deep breath and pressed the palms of his hands together, like he did when Klee wanted to do something borderline-illegal and he had to let her down gently. “Durin. You said you’re seeing memories of the old Durin?”

Durin caught Hat Guy’s eyes. To his surprise, Hat Guy didn’t seem at all fazed — but perhaps he’d managed to piece it together from their earlier conversation. Durin hadn’t exactly been subtle, thinking back on it now. Hat Guy gave him an almost-imperceptible nod of silent permission.

“...yes,” Durin said at last, knitting his fingers together and staring down at his feet. “Kind of. It’s complicated.”

“And you’re feeling alright? No different than before you got your heart?” The concern in Albedo’s voice made Durin look back up. The muscles in the alchemist’s face twitched, as if uncertain what expression to make. Durin could relate.

Durin nodded. He brought his clasped hands up to his chest, pressing them against the crystalline surface of his heart. “Yeah. Actually, I feel… better. I don’t know if the Durin I was seeing in my dreams was actually the real thing or just a figment of my imagination, but… we had a good conversation. I don’t feel guilty about hijacking his story anymore, anyway.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean…” Durin took a deep breath before continuing, “I mean, was it really fair of me? To take not just his name, but now his heart and his future? What right do I have? But… he gave me his blessing. So. Now I’m going to write a better ending for both our sakes.”

“Touching,” Hat Guy quipped, though the sarcasm in his voice was less pronounced than usual. He turned to Albedo. “Now, your turn. Mind explaining what’s gotten into you?”

Albedo sighed, tilting his head back and staring up at the dark roof of the cave. “My… creator,” he began uncertainly, “was not the mothering type. To her, I was an experiment. A test of her limits. Of alchemy’s limits. Whether or not I was happy was never a concern for her. Even her sending me off into the world was just another test, nothing like what your mother intended for you.

“I didn’t quite understand it at first. I had no other frame of reference, so I thought the way she spoke to me and the coldness she showed towards me were normal. But the years that I’ve spent in Mondstadt, with Klee and Aunt Alice and all the rest, showed me that there’s more to life than simple biological functions. So when I had the opportunity to recreate Gold’s greatest endeavor… I wanted to be better than her, at least in one little way. I wanted you to be well and truly human. I formed your body of flesh and blood rather than chalk. I tried to raise you surrounded by love, so unlike my own upbringing. But it wasn’t enough; you still needed to confront the fate written in the stars, something even the Art of Khemia cannot hope to overtake.

“I thought it had all gone well enough, but then you started talking about seeing the evil Durin in your dreams. And I thought…” Albedo’s breath hitched in his throat. “I thought I’d made a mistake, that something had gone horribly wrong in the process, that I’d overlooked some crucial detail and you were about to fall down the path of misery and madness that so many of our kin have been unable to resist. And if that happened, I don’t know what I would do.” He gave Durin a quavering smile. “I just don’t have my mother’s knack for throwing out her creations.”

Durin closed his eyes, letting Albedo’s words wash over him like the warm breezes of Windrise. To think, Albedo had been struggling under the weight of all that on top of keeping them from being buried alive. “I understand. And it’s okay! I forgive you, really. Just… don’t do it again, alright? I promise I won’t turn evil.”

He nudged Albedo’s hand with his own, intertwining their fingers and squeezing reassuringly. After a moment, Albedo squeezed back.

Durin glanced up at Hat Guy, who had gone uncharacteristically silent. To Durin’s surprise, his friend’s face had lost any semblance of the fury it had borne before, and was now… quiet. Contemplative. Like something in Albedo’s explanation had cut the strings of his anger and left him helplessly adrift.

After a moment’s hesitation, Durin reached out his other hand. Hat Guy jolted at the touch, but returned it briefly, before turning on his heel with a scowl.

“I’m going to watch the cave-in while you” — he pointed an accusing finger at Albedo — “get some actual sleep for once. And you” — at Durin, now — “make sure he actually rests.” His tone brooked no argument, so Durin gave a quick salute and slid his shoulder beneath Albedo’s arm to help the alchemist to the low, sputtering glow of their underfed heater. Speaking of underfed, Albedo was worryingly light. Durin would have to give him the rest of their food rations. Forget saving something for later — Durin worried that if he didn’t force Albedo to eat something now, there wouldn’t be a later.

Behind them, Durin heard the rushing of Anemo as Hat Guy activated his Vision. A second later, Albedo released his isotomas, letting out a sigh as if the weight of the world had just been lifted from his shoulders. In a sense, Durin supposed, it had.

And even though they were still trapped, out of provisions, with no idea if help was on the way, Durin felt like maybe, just maybe, it would all be okay.

The sun shines over the grass, kissing the green blades like old friends reunited after a long winter apart. Here and there, clusters of flowers every color of the rainbow blossom into life, filling the air with the sweet fragrance of spring.

To the left and right of him, ahead and behind him, are his family, his friends, their laughter carried on friendly winds.

His two most beloved are nearest to him. One’s face softens into a smile framed by flaxen waves dancing in the breeze; the other smirks and rolls his eyes as if feigned indifference will mask the fluster in his cheeks.

They reach out their hands. He takes them, and flies.

Once again, Durin woke to shouting.

He grumbled, still half-asleep, even as Hat Guy shook his shoulders roughly, telling him to “Get up already, come on, you’re saved, so get your sleeping asses up already.”

It took a moment for Durin to register the words, and another to realize the shouting wasn’t coming from Hat Guy, or even Albedo. No, those voices…

“Jean? Eula?” Durin startled upright, shoulder bumping into Albedo’s head, causing the alchemist to wince awake as well.

Albedo groaned, rubbing his head even as his eyes filled with panic. “Hat Guy? Why aren’t you watching the cave-in?”

“I don’t have to, you imbeciles,” Hat Guy said, rolling his eyes — Durin feeling the hint of deja vu in the motion — “because your knights in shining armor have finally arrived.”

It seemed to take Albedo even longer than Durin to shake the sleep off, but once he did, his head snapped around to where light — glorious, shining, and oh gods why is it so bright light — was finally streaming into the cave, the tip of a shovel visible as familiar voices shouted orders to each other.

After taking it in, Albedo sagged back down against Durin’s shoulder — which was prickling uncomfortably, after Albedo’s spending the entire night sleeping on it — with palpable relief. “We’re safe.”

“Yeah,” Durin said, leaning into Albedo in turn, setting a hand on top of where Hat Guy’s rested on his other shoulder. For the first time in however many days, he felt well and truly warm. “We are.”